


Reason and Romance

by bookwormchocaholic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anti Cora, Anti Hook, F/M, Historical AU, Regency Era, Sense and Sensibility AU, Spinner Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, abuse tw, papafire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 09:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15905202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormchocaholic/pseuds/bookwormchocaholic
Summary: Rummond and Bae Gold must leave their home and begin anew at Avonlea Cottage, on the estate of Sir Maurice French. They hope to live quietly and happily in Devonshire, but when Rummond and Bae are both thwarted in love, they cope in their own distinctive ways. They come to support one another and must pursue their happy endings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Sense and Sensibility AU of sorts that's been on my mind for a couple years now. I'm rereading S&S, so I thought I'd give it a try. I hope it honors Austen's classic. Not beta-ed or properly researched; expect a ton of mistakes.

October

London

Rummond Gold ambled to the little table by the door, where the maid left the post after it arrived. Recognizing the penmanship on one of the missives, he snatched it up, broke the seal and skimmed the contents of the letter. He sighed contentedly; he had been waiting for something like this for months.

Since he had been seriously wounded and discharged from the army, he and his son Bae had been living with his father, Malcolm. His military pension didn’t stretch very far, nor did the annual stipend he received after his mother Fiona passed. He expected to come home to Milah and Bae and settle down in their little cottage. Instead, he learned that Milah had run off with a naval captain and Bae was living with Malcolm in his cramped, dirty apartments in the slums of London. He laid aside his own pain, both physical and emotional, and did his best to comfort his son.

Peels of laughter emanated from Malcolm’s room…both masculine and feminine laughter.

Rummond glanced around and with the maid no where in sight, it was easy to deduce that she was with his father. He rolled his eyes and began to search the apartment for Bae. Using his cane for support, he limped into the small study off the side of the sitting room and his heart began to pain him when he didn’t immediately find Bae in there.

“Bae?” Rummond called out. “Bae, where are you?”

A rustle from beneath a table soothed his fears. “Here, papa.”

Rummond winced as he sat down on the floor beside his son. “What are you doing under here?” He chuckled. When Bae was small, he used to hide under tables all the time. But at fifteen, the boy was a little too old for that.

Before Bae could answer, there were more bawdy cackles from Malcolm’s room.

“Grandfather is entertaining the maid again.” His son replied, his face reddening. “And you don’t want me on the streets. They started in the sitting room, so I came in here.”

“I’m sorry.” Rummond nodded knowingly.

Malcolm had always been a blackguard and would never change. Rummond grew up having to face his father’s underhanded and libertine practices and he left for the army as soon as he looked old enough. But he didn’t want any of that for Bae. His son deserved the best, and he would not find the best living in the slums of London. Especially living under Malcolm’s roof.

 _It’d kill me if Bae took on any of Papa’s habits._ Rummond unfolded the letter once more and knew that there was no other alternative. The other day, Malcolm plied Bae with an exorbitant amount of wine, making the boy sick. The older man claimed he wanted to make a man out of Bae since _“I failed to make a man out of you!”_

“Bae, I received a little from my old friend and comrade-in-arms, Sir Maurice. You remember him, don’t you? We paid respects when his wife passed. He has a daughter named Belle and they live in Devonshire.” Rummond waited for Bae to respond, but was a little disheartened when all he received was a blank look from his son. Uncertain of what to say next, he decided the best thing to do was continue on. “Sir Maurice has offered us the use of a cottage on his estate. We can make it our home. And I think we should accept.”

He and Sir Maurice had served together years ago and then lost touch. Then when he heard that Lady Colette died suddenly, Rummond resumed their correspondence and then he and Bae called on the French family to pay their respects. They lived in the country and had an idyllic estate. Wholesome, clean, good…everything he longed for Bae to have. Of course, being of an inferior station and genteelly poor, he knew better than to let his jealousy get the better of him. He hadn’t told Sir Maurice of his troubles, but somehow his old friend heard and wanted to help.

A snug little cottage would be perfect for him and Bae. They could live quietly off of his pension and stipend, and he could keep some sheep, spin, and make a little profit. Then he would find some way for Bae to have a proper education and make something of himself.

“What about Mama?” Bae shook his head, his floofy hair shaking too. “She might come back and she won’t know where to find us.”

Rummond gulped. He tried to never disparage Milah in front of Bae, yet at the same time he didn’t want to hide that she ran off with another man. Malcolm hardly kept his sentiments to himself and people gossiped.

“Bae, your mother, she…” But he couldn’t finish.

His son’s hopeful eyes bore into him. He couldn’t crush his boy’s spirit, or the belief that Milah loved them. Rummond supposed Milah loved Bae in her own way, but not nearly as much as she loved herself or the naval captain. But he knew what it was like to be unloved by his parents, and didn’t want Bae to have to know that feeling.

“I will leave behind information of our whereabouts. All right?” Rummond forced a smile. “I really believe though that Avonlea cottage is the best place for us to find happiness.”

Bae was beaming and leaned forward, throwing his arms around Rummond. Another cackle from Malcolm’s bedroom made them both cringe.

Bae parted from Rummond and glancing at the letter, he asked, “Can we leave today?”

Rummond exhaled a breath he had not realized he had been holding. “I must answer this first and post it. Then we will pack.”

Bae climbed out from under the table and offered Rummond his hand, helping him to his feet.

Rummond patted his son’s cheek, grateful that while his military career and his marriage had failed, at least Providence spared him his son.

#

Rummond waited until the maid went home and Bae was in bed before informing Malcolm of his plans. He expected there to be a scene, so he wasn’t surprised when Malcolm started shouting and the older man went to straight to his liquor. He didn’t both with a glass, he downed the scotch in gulps, swinging the bottle around.

Rummond trembled, hoping to God Malcolm wouldn’t throw the bottle at him. It wouldn’t be the first time his father hit him. In his youth he could get away, but now, with his limp, he was at the older man’s mercy. Which was another reason he wanted out of this place. He hated the abuse and he didn’t want Bae to think that it was normal.

“I don’t know why the hell you can’t stay here? London not good enough?” Malcolm took another swig and then pitched the bottle against the floor. “It was fine enough when that wife of yours was here. Good God, she begged you to leave and you never did. No wonder the wench ran off.” He fell back in his chair and propped his muddy boots up on the coffee table. “She wanted a real man, not some cowardly cripple who shirks from his duties and flinches at every loud noise.”

Rummond tightened his fingers around the handle of his cane. “Yes, I know how unhappy Milah was.”

He tried to make Milah happy, but nothing he did was right or good enough. She wanted to travel and see the world, which was a fine dream, but he couldn’t make that happen. The best he could afford was a small cottage near Cheapside and an occasional trip to a museum or a bookshop.

“I want more for Bae. He deserves the best the world has to offer.” Rummond insisted and wouldn’t budge on this, no matter what his father said. He failed Milah, but he wouldn’t fail his son.

Malcolm snorted. “Don’t know why, when he’s not even yours. This life is good enough for a by blow like him.”

Rummond suddenly felt lightheaded and he rushed to the window and wrenched it open, desperate for some cool autumn air. He sucked in a lungful of air and tried to think of something else.

“Come now, you and I both know he’s not yours.” His father continued to taunt. “The math never did add up. Yet you make over him like he was a prince.”

Rummond grasped the windowsill and directed his eyes to the starry host above. He didn’t know for certain that Bae was his. After being away for so long, the second he set foot in the house, Milah welcome him with an affection he hadn’t seen since their courtship days. Then Bae came along almost eight months later. Naturally his father pointed it out when Bae was born and Milah was angry, then she looked guilty. However, when he first held Bae, he loved the boy immediately and decided Bae was his son in every way that mattered.

“Bae is my son,” Rummond declared, turning back to his father. “I love him, he is my world. We will be leaving tomorrow. End of discussion.”

He stalked out of the room and to the bedroom he shared with Bae, convinced that he had made the right choice. Whatever awaited them in Devonshire had to be better than this. Neither he and Bae would ever look back.

#

Avonlea Park – Devonshire

Belle dropped her book on the floor as she got up from her window seat. _He’s here, they’re here, I can’t wait to see them again!_

A carriage drove passed their lane and headed onto the direction of Avonlea Cottage, and though she couldn’t be for certain, she felt in her heart of hearts, that Rummond and Bae Gold had arrived. She dashed out of the sitting room and down to the library where her Father was at his desk, drawing up his accounts.

“Papa, they’re here! I saw them.” She went to him and tugged on his plump hand. “We must go and call on them. Make haste!”

“My dear,” Sir Maurice chuckled, “They’ll want to settle in first. Besides, its almost time for my nap. And my throat feels a little scratchy.”

Belle’s shoulders fell. Since her Father’s retirement from the army and his inheritance of Avonlea Park, he had become old and suffered from nerves and other non-existent ailments. This left her to her devices, which was fine, but she often felt lonely with only her books as company. Which was another reason she was happy that Rummond and Bae Gold had taken Avonlea cottage. She liked them.

More than like them. Especially Rummond. She blushed at the thought. The truth was, she loved Rummond Gold from the moment they met. He had been Sir Maurice’s old friend from his army days and after many years of silence, he wrote to share his condolences on Lady Colette’s death. Then he and his son – who was but a child then – visited to pay their respects. Rummond had been so kind to her. He was everything a man ought to be; kind, thoughtful, sweet, handsome, good. Unfortunately for her, he was happily married then and she was only eighteen. Still, to this day she cared for him and though she could never openly love him, she wanted to make certain he and his son were looked after. So, when she heard from another that Mrs. Gold had run off and Rummond and Bae were living in an impoverished state, she encouraged her father to offer them Avonlea Park. Sir Maurice loved the idea and wrote immediately. She was ecstatic when Rummond responded accepting the offer.

Belle stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “Then I shall go alone.” She declared, knowing it would sway her father.

“That would not be proper.” Sir Maurice rose from his seat, sighing. “Give me a few minutes.”

Belle kissed his cheek and ran to put on her blue spencer coat and bonnet.

When her father was ready, she took his arm and walked him outside and down the lane in the direction of the cottage. They were moving at the slower pace for his sake, and she wouldn’t rush him, but she longed to break out into a run and be there as soon as possible.

“We should offer the Gold’s an open invitation to sup with us whenever they please. And to use our library. They will certainly liven us up.” Belle giggled, patting her father’s arm. Having his old friend near would no doubt improve her father’s spirits. “Oh, and I thought to make Bae feel welcome, I could give him one of the puppies from the litters. He would like that, wouldn’t you say?”

“My girl, such energy. You make me giddy.” Sir Maurice smiled and then looked a little more thoughtful. “Have you given any more thought to Gaston’s suit?”  
Belle wrinkled her nose. “No. Please, don’t push him on me.”

She loathed Gaston. The fool fancied himself God’s gift to all women and didn’t seem to comprehend why she did not respond to his ridiculous attempts at love-making. He was loud and crude and smelled and they way he leered at anything in a skirt, made her uneasy. Marriage would not be able to amend such bad habits and she didn’t want a husband like that.

She wanted someone who was sweet and kind and gentle…someone who put his loved ones first and really listened to her when she spoke. She wanted Rummond, even though she couldn’t have him. And if she couldn’t have Rummond, then she would prefer to end up a spinster.

“He’s a fool who only thinks of hunting…and his latest conquest. He doesn’t read either.” Belle stopped and faced her father, eager to make her feelings on the subject known. “Papa, please.”

Sir Maurice nodded and looked disappointed, but as in many cases, he let her have her way. “Very well, I won’t drop anymore hints about Gaston.” His eyes became water and she feared he was about to cry. “I just want to make sure you’re well taken care of. I won’t be here forever.”

“I love you, Papa.” Belle hugged the older man.

“I love you too.” Sir Maurice said.

They continued their walk in silence. She didn’t want to let her father down, but she couldn’t marry a man she didn’t love. The way she figured it, there was nothing wrong with being a spinster, especially since he father set aside a substantial dowry for her. She could live off of that and be as happy as a woman could be, living without the man she loved.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle sees Rummond again; Bae gets a new home.

Belle began to tremble as Sir Maurice softly knocked on the door of Avonlea Cottage. Before, her enthusiasm had consumed her, but now, she was about to come face to face with the man she loved for years. _What will he think of me?_ She pondered, giving her father a sheepish smile. The older man didn’t have an inkling of her feelings. And if he did, he likely wouldn’t understand.

Her grasp on her father’s arm tightened when the door swung open.

Rummond and Bae stood in the doorway and for a moment she forgot how to speak. Her true love was exactly as she remembered him: a little taller than she, soft brown eyes, longish hair which did seem a bit greyer, and thin lips that stretched into an apprehensive smile. The only difference she noticed was the cane he was leaning upon. Poor man. He hurt himself at some point and still suffered from it.

His son changed the most, nearing his father’s height, with a crop of unruly hair. No longer a child, he was not yet a man. Belle never met the mysterious Mrs. Gold, but she couldn’t detect anything but Rummond’s features and characteristics in the young man. Both of the Gold men were much too gaunt in her opinion, but regular meals at Avonlea Park would cure them of that.

“Sir Maurice!” Rummond held out his hand to her father. “I want to thank you-”

“Oh, none of that!” Sir Maurice waved him off and pumped his hand eagerly. “We are old friends and I dare say you would open your home to me if need be. Ah, you remember my daughter, Belle.”

Belle noticed Rummond’s high cheek bones reddening when he looked at her and wondered if his reaction was a good thing or a bad thing. “Mr. Gold,” She greeted and held out her hand for him. “Will you not shake hands with me?”

Rummond nodded, clearly flummoxed. “Of course, my apologies, Miss French.”

He took her hand and gave it a tiny shake, then brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it. A tingle shot through her, one that was unfamiliar, but it excited her. _What would those lips feel like on other parts of me?_ She loved the callouses on his palms and his long tapering fingers. Unlike the gentlemen in the area, he worked his whole life. He had actually done things for himself and been places.

“It is good to see you again.” Rummond released her, much to her dismay. He slid his arm around his son shoulders. “This is my boy, Baeden. He goes by Bae.”

  
Bae shyly nodded to them.

“Good morning, Bae. Is the cottage suited to your needs?” Belle inquired.

When they received Rummond’s letter, announcing of their acceptance of Sir Maurice’s offer, Belle sent over a couple servants to clean the cottage from top to bottom, as well as stock the pantry and wood supply. Other than that, she didn’t know what they would require to make the cottage feel like a home.

“Yes, you must let us know if you require anything. Where are your servants?” Sir Maurice asked, rising up on his tip toes to peer past the Gold men.

Bae looked confused. “We don’t have any.”

It was only then that Belle realized how worn Rummond and Bae’s clothing were. She had been so caught up in seeing them again, she missed the obvious. The Gold men were clearly impoverished, more than what she and her father suspected. Servants were probably the last thing on their minds.

“Oh. We could send someone down-” Belle suggested.

“That isn’t necessary. We are self-reliant.” Rummond replied quickly.

Belle was about to protest this when she received a nudge in the side from her father. She frowned, but kept her thoughts to herself. Never an easy feat, but she didn’t wish to speak out of turn.

“If you change your mind, let me know.” Sir Maurice declared and swiftly changed the subject. He lifted his and gestured in the direction of Avonlea Park. “I hope you will take meals with us. It is rather lonesome with just the two of us. Often enough, I doze off and my poor Belle is left with no one to talk to. Just come over whenever you wish.”

Belle studied both father and son and sensed they wouldn’t accept the invitation without a little more prompting. They were too polite and retiring for their own good. “I look forward to your company. We have an extensive library and you can borrow however many books you wish.”

“Really?” Bae’s eyes brightened and he genuinely smiled.

“Yes.” Belle longed to take the boy to her library now and show off her books, but knew it would be too presumptuous. Rummond and Bae needed time to settle in and make themselves at home. “Papa isn’t much of a reader, so it would be nice to discuss literature with someone.”

Belle glanced at Rummond and felt her spirits plummeting on observing his skittish expression. She wasn’t sure what she did or said, but she feared she made him uncomfortable. _Sometimes I am too impetuous for my own good._ Aside from her comment on providing them servants, she couldn’t think of anything else that might have offended him. Perhaps he was simply weary from his travels or from the changes he made, and a good night’s rest would sooth his nerves.

Sir Maurice tugged on her arm and they departed from Avonlea Cottage, however Belle’s mind and heart continued to be full of the sweet man who scarcely said two words to her.

#

Rummond didn’t feel like he could breathe properly until he closed the cottage’s front door. His fingers twitched, longing to spin his wool. He used to spin to work out his anxieties, unfortunately for him, he hadn’t had a spinning wheel in his possession for years.

He rested his back against the door, still dumbstruck by the ethereal beauty of Belle French. Not even the angels on the stain glass of the cathedrals in Europe could rival her. Her wide, innocent azure eyes, her sweet face framed by her chestnut curls, her infectious smile and her kind-hearted spirit. Those plump lips he would give just about anything to taste and savor.

She was wholly unspoiled.

Rummond’s skin suddenly felt on fire and was itchy. He rubbed the back of his neck. _What is wrong with me?_ His old comrade-in-arms was standing right there while he made eyes at the man’s daughter. It was all he could do to attend to the conversation and not wonder what Belle French’s figure might look like beneath her spencer coat. Stop it, she is a girl. _She is your friend’s daughter._ Not only that, he was still officially a married man. Milah might be absent, but she was his wife. She might not be faithful to him, but he had to be faithful to her. For Bae’s sake, if not for his own.

“I like them, Papa.” Bae state aloud.

Rummond’s head snapped up and he felt a pang of guilt. He had forgotten that his son had been standing there the whole time and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Bae’s voice.

“Especially Miss French.” Bae added.

Rummond patted his boy on the shoulder. “I’m glad to hear it.” He hobbled from the door, his cane clicking on the hardwood floor. The noise only ceased when he stepped onto the carpet of the sitting room.

The cottage would be considered small by most standards, but in Rummond’s opinion it was perfect. The view from the cottage was majestic and overlooked the sparkling waters. The downs would plentiful and he could take Bae exploring in the afternoons. He surveyed the rooms and while they were pretty bare, in time he and Bae could make it into a home. It needed a little work, which they would not trouble the French’s about, but would take care of on their own. A chimney that smoked, pokey dark stairs, drafts by the windows, peeling wallpaper and chipping paint. They would make their alterations next spring. For the winter, Bae would attend to his studies and repair the defects in his education. As for him, he would purchase a spinning wheel and do some spinning.

The best part about it was they were far from London and Malcolm’s debauchery. This wholesome area would be a good influence on Bae. His boy could see how good, honest people lived and follow their example.

“Could we go to the French’s for supper tonight?” Bae joined him in the sitting room. He lowered his voice, despite the fact they were the only ones in the cottage. “We don’t have any more bread from our trip.”

It was on the tip of Rummond’s tongue to decline, but one glimpse of his son and he faltered. He would willingly go hungry, but he couldn’t allow his son to suffer through those abominable hunger pangs. The memory of those were still fresh in his memory. According to Sir Maurice’s letter, the cottage had not been occupied for a couple of years, therefore he assumed the panty had to be bare. Tomorrow he could go into the village and purchase what they needed, but he was too exhausted now from their journey.

“Yes, but we can’t make a habit of it.” Rummond agreed and racked his brain on what they could wear to a proper supper. They had their Sunday bests, but he knew they would be woefully out of place amongst the French’s finery. “The French’s have been generous to us and we can’t take advantage of that. In the morning, we will shop for what we need.”

“I can fish too!” Bae said. His son’s expression suddenly turned mischievous and if he hadn’t known the boy better, he would have been worried. “I can’t wait to see Miss French’s library. How old is she?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Rummond shrugged, though that wasn’t quite the truth. When he first met Belle, after her mother’s death, she was eighteen. Seven years had passed and that would make her five and twenty. “Why?”

“Well, I wondered why she wasn’t married.” Bae replied.

“That, son, is none of our business.” Rummond held up a finger. “And don’t ask her.”

For a brief moment he feared Bae was smitten with Belle. It would never work. While still youthful, Belle was Bae’s senior by ten years. Not to mention the vast difference in their social classes and fortune.

His fears dissolved when Bae began to prattle on about the library and what kind of books Belle might have. He then decided his boy was merely excited to make a new friend and was inquisitive.

 _Why isn’t she married?_ The question cropped up suddenly.

The question entered Rummond’s mind before he could stop it. Certainly, Belle had no shortage of beaux. A girl such a she could have any man her heart desired. All she would have to do was smile and quirk her little finger. How would he make it through supper without fantasizing about her?

Rummond banished the image of Belle quirking her finger at him and mounted the stairs to the second floor. He had to dress for supper.

#

Bae didn’t dare move too much, out of fear of bumping the table and disturbing the meal. But he couldn’t help but squirm a little in his seat. His Sunday best felt constricting, since it was tight on his ever-growing frame. Never in his whole life had he been inside a mansion as grand as Avonlea Park. The four-story structure loomed far above as he and Papa approached on foot and though Sir Maurice and Belle warmly welcomed them, he felt out of place. Their measly offer of wild flowers felt ridiculous considering fine hot house flowers decorated the various rooms, but Belle’s eyes gleamed when she accepted them.

They scarcely had time to talk before they adjourned to the dining room. He and Papa sat across from one another while Sir Maurice and Belle sat on opposite ends. Bae’s mouth watered when a servant served him venison stew and he would have tucked in if Papa hadn’t caught his attention and pointed to the right spoon to use. He did his best to mimic his father’s eating habits and conversed with Belle while Sir Maurice and Papa talked of old times.

His belly never felt so full and he wondered if the French’s always ate like this or if it was because they were entertaining company.

On finishing his meal, Sir Maurice laid his napkin down and leaned back in his seat. “I drink port after meals, will you drink with me, Gold?”

Papa also laid his napkin aside and seemed unsure of how to answer. “Yes, well, Bae…”

Bae frowned. He loved his father, he loved no one else more in the world, but the man’s entire world revolved around him. Papa didn’t mean to, but Bae often felt smothered.

“I was going to show Bae the library, if that is all right with you, Mr. Gold.” Belle piped up and slyly winked at Bae.

The flustered expression on his father’s face melted away and he seemed to be at ease. “Of course.” His gaze briefly flickered to Belle before he bashfully dropped his head.

Bae chuckled and rolled his eyes. Papa liked Belle. He suspected it when the French’s called at the cottage, but now that he was able to watch them interact, he was convinced. Papa liked Belle and unbeknownst to Papa, Belle liked him too.

Papa and Sir Maurice stood respectfully when Belle rose.

Bae followed Belle out of the dining room and he tried to memorize each and every detail of the rooms he passed through as she led him to the library.

Bae let out a whistle when he entered the library. He had to crane his neck back to be able to take in the whole view of floor to ceiling books shelves, the globes, the ladders. There had to be thousands of books in there! The room smelled dusty, but homey.

“Are all these books yours?” Bae went to the closest shelf and looked at the leather-bound volumes.

“My family collected them for years, but I secretly consider them all mine. Borrow whatever you would like.” Belle took a step closer and softly asked, “How do you like the cottage? If you want to change anything if there need to be improvements, please let us know.”

Bae shook his head. “It is amazing! Our cottage in London wasn’t nearly as big and my grandfather’s apartments were cramped…We didn’t have much privacy.” He gulped, feeling a wave of discomfort.

“Well, I’m glad you like it and I hope you and your papa know you are welcome to visit Avonlea Park anytime you please.” Belle reached out and gave his hand an affectionate squeeze.

After watching how Belle and Sir Maurice treated each other, he now understood that the way his grandfather lived, or even his mother, was not normal. Now that he and Papa were away from Grandfather and mother, he hoped their life could somehow resemble Belle’s and Sir Maurice’s. The peace, the happiness, the hope.

His mother was out there somewhere. At first, he missed her. She was his mother after all, but now after watching how well Belle treated his father and liked Papa, he knew his mother acted wrongly. Now that he thought about it, Bae couldn’t recall being on the receiving end of much affection from his mother. He barely knew Belle, but felt she would make a better mother. Papa didn’t like to speak of his mother or what happened, and Bae didn’t want to hurt his father by prying. Someday he hoped to learn the truth, when the time was right.

As long as he and Papa could be together and be happy, that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://bookwormchocaholic.tumblr.com/post/178730858644/reason-and-romance-chapter-2


End file.
